Her New Silk Gown
by Laura Schiller
Summary: Meg makes a scene, and John makes a discovery. "Let's just say I'll never forget the day your new coat arrived."


Her New Silk Gown

By Laura Schiller

Based on _Little Women_ by Louisa May Alcott

"… _she put [the coat] on, and asked him how he liked her new silk gown. One can imagine what answer he made, how he received his present, and what a blissful state of things ensued."_

- page 79, _Good Wives_

Mrs. Margaret Brooke, née March, was a somewhat unpredictable person. She could go on for several months in a state of perfect tranquillity, but every now and then she would burst out and make a scene, like the amateur actress she used to be – sometimes angry and hurt, sometimes blissful, but always dramatic. At one point, she started a shouting match with her husband over a failed batch of currant jelly; another time, she stretched the household finances to the limit with several luxurious purchases, the crowning point being a roll of fifty-dollar purple silk. John Brooke bore with it as best he could. He thought of it as the March spirit, the same one which showed itself so vividly in Jo and Amy. While he was fond of his routine, he had to admit that living with Meg was never dull

The silk incident, however, was a problem. He could plainly see that his wife was eaten up with remorse; it broke his heart to see how quiet and pale she was, and to find her crying, wrapped up in John's shabby old greatcoat (he could no longer afford a new one as he had planned, because no amount of tears could bring back those fifty dollars). It made him feel helpless, inadequate; he couldn't give his wife the pretty things she wanted; couldn't even make her happy.

He came home one evening in low spirits, shaking off the rain from his umbrella in the doorway, shivering a little in that worn-out coat. The house was quiet; Lotty, the maid, had gone home for the night. Meg was making no sound; perhaps she had already gone to bed. She had tended to sleep in the spare room lately; another step widening the distance between them. John sighed.

A creak on the staircase made him look up. There was Meg, wrapped in evening shadows, her soft brown curls tumbling down her back. She was wore a long black men's coat, her bare ankles and feet showing underneath, and she was smiling.

"Hello, darling," she said. "How do you like my new silk gown?"

"Meg!" he exclaimed, too flabbergasted to think clearly for a moment. "What – is that the coat I ordered? What _have_ you been doing?"

She laughed and tossed her hair; in spite of his confusion, that laugh did his soul good. Whatever had happened, she was his Meg again.

"I went to Sallie and told her everything," she confessed. "How we really couldn't afford the silk, how disappointed you were, and how dreadfully I felt about all of this. She didn't laugh or pity me at all, dear thing, and bought the silk from me for the full fifty dollars. And so I ordered this coat for you, and waited here to surprise you, and you'll forgive me, my love, won't you? Say you will!"

With that, she ran down the stairs and threw herself into her husband's waiting arms.

"Always, my darling," he said, running his hands down her back and through her hair. "You don't know how happy I am to see you smile again."

She looked up at him, her blue eyes sparkling with mischief. "Don't you want to take it off me, Mr. Brooke?"

"A very good idea, Mrs. Brooke. One should always inspect the merchandise before using it."

He slipped the coat off her shoulders and raised his eyebrows at the sight of what lay underneath: Meg's lightest, floatiest nightgown, and nothing else.

He made a show of trying on the coat (it fit perfectly, and was much warmer than the old one) and taking it off again with a flourish. He put it on the hanger (for even in moments like this, John Brooke was tidy) and swept his little wife off her feet.

"I think we should continue the inspection upstairs, don't you?"

Her squeal of delight was answer enough for him. Yes, indeed, he thought. Meg's scenes made their married life very interesting.

_Six weeks later …_

"I think – I believe – I'm almost certain," said Meg, pacing around the tiny living room.

"Almost certain of what?" asked John, lowering his newspaper.

Meg paused, twirling one curl around her finger. Then she shook her head and laughed.

"Well, if I'm right, then let's just say I'll never forget that day your new coat arrived."

"You mean – "

"Yes. We're going to have a baby!"

The newspaper scattered itself across the table, forgotten, as John bounced off his seat and spun Meg around in a manner quite unlike his usual self.

"Do your sisters know? And your parents? Have you thought of any names yet? But you're all right, aren't you, no problems, and you won't drink too much offee or overwork yourself - "

"Goodness, John! Calm down," she said, taking the level-headed role for once. "It's going to be all right," she added, stroking her still flat stomach with a gentle hand. "I know."

"_So the year rolled round, and at midsummer there came to Meg a new experience – the deepest and tenderest of a woman's life."_

- page 79, _Good Wives_


End file.
